It is now twenty years after the Crimson Warlord returned.
He was defeated in the most violent battle Silverblade had ever seen.
Dante Hellfire was no more. And the young swordsman Prince Jonathan, son of King Flamesmite, took up his fatherâ€™s title as King. However, the King is now dead. His sister, Princess Julia, has ascended to the throne.
Some, resenting the rule of a queen, gathered their tribes and moved to the Frosthorn Mountains. From there, they constructed massive stone fortresses, carved straight into the mountain. However, they were unwelcome to the Dwarves.
â€œOf course we can stay! You never said we couldnâ€™t!â€ Greyblade Shadowmancer roared.
â€œAye laddie, but we didnâ€™t say you could,â€ Seamus Oceanhawk bellowed in reply.
â€œFine, just fine,â€ Greyblade snarled, â€œWait until now not to tell us!â€
With that he signaled to his guards and stormed from the Great Hall.

Chapter 1

Telarion Fleetwing gazed at his surroundings unhappily.
â€œThe forests seem so quietâ€¦â€ he began.
Back in Mar Dunra, which had been restored to its former glory, the pirate Kaynori planned her next course of action.
â€œAs long as I donâ€™t run afoul of the Navy, they wonâ€™t attack me.â€
She said. The city had been buzzing with the prospect of trading with a far-off land. The Royal Navy formed a truce when the two seagoing forces compromised to fight any demons. In return, the Navy would not capture or sink pirate vessels.

In the forest, Telarion heard a snap. He jumped and drew his long sword. He called at the surrounding trees, â€œShow yourself!â€
A shape leapt from the branches of a towering redwood, a figure with a huge sword. The sword blade glittered like glazed lightning.
â€œA half-elf?â€ It wondered out loud. â€œThis land surprises me all the time.â€
â€œAnd who are you?â€ Telarion replied. â€œWhat are you?â€ he said, staring at the figureâ€™s wings.

*Note i will actually post the story in writing on the forums, instead of attaching it. If you want to full-bodied text, send me a PM with ur email address. I can email it to you. Hope you enjoy it!* (Oh and by the way, dont pirate this!)

In the Royal Palace, Queen Julia sat alone on the throne, thinking.
â€œAll has been peaceful recently, why? It was never this calm in my fatherâ€™s time, nor his fatherâ€™s, or even his father-in-lawâ€™s.â€
Juliaâ€™s father had been Flamesmite Gamron.
Her grandfather was Sergon, or Matthias Gamron.
And her great-grandfather through her grandmother was High King Alastor.

Seamus sat brooding. He was unhappy. Despite his pleas, Greyblade refused to heed him. Things looked dark, and volatile.
â€œGreyblade, I cannot see why you are so intent on going forward with this.
During the time you and your refugees have spent in the fortress, you seemed content. Now you are hostile, and cold. Why is that?â€
â€œLike it or not, Seamus, stop being my father. He died a long time ago.â€
â€œOf courseâ€¦I remember now. Your father was the chief advisor of King Jonathan, he was to keep watch over the Bloodfang, sword of the Crimson Warlord; but your father could not resist its call. That same blade drove him to his death, did it not? In an uprising, he led an assault on the castle. He struck down the Kng. An angry mob retaliated, burning him. Now the sword has fallen to you.â€

â€œYes, it has. And I intend to use it, for I will succeed in my endeavor. My forces will storm the castle, and drag the â€˜Queenâ€™ screaming from her bed. Then she will know her fate: death by my hand, and my hand alone.â€
This signaled the creation of the Shadow Alliance, Greybladeâ€™s ultimate weapon of war.

Chapter 2

You say this is true, how can it be?â€
â€œI do not know, my friend. All I know is that there are multiple conspiracies to overthrow the Queen.â€
Telarion and Garion sat talking. They had been talking for the last two hours. Over that time, they had become fast friends and firm allies.
â€œHmm,â€ Telarion said pensively, fiddling with his sword hilt. â€œThis is insanity. Our queen rules benevolently; as far as I know, a tyrant has not taken the throne in a long time. Not since our lands were organized was there a tyrant.â€
â€œYes, but look at it this way, Telarion,â€ Garion began. â€œOur land is one of many contradictions. The government is a monarchy, yet we have a constituition. Firearms are within our technological reach, yet we continue to wield swords and spears, why?â€
â€œAll right, all right; I get the point,â€ Telarion grumbled.

A servant entered the throne room of the Royal Palace.
â€œMilady, you have a guest. His name is Tyragon Coldbane. He says he has important news, my queen.â€ The servant stated respectfully.
â€œVery well, you may show him in,â€ the queen replied, intrigued.
â€œYes, milady,â€ The servant said. He turned to open the door but at that moment it burst open. Several armed guards rushed in and faced the door, weapons at the ready.
â€œWhat is the meaning of this?â€ Julia demanded.
â€œDo not worry, milady. We are here to protect you. It seems Baron Coldbane has ill feelings towards the crown.â€
â€œBe that as it may, you still cannot have your soldiers rush in here like madmen, captain!â€
"I am aware of that, milady; and I apologize. However, I thought it best if I left some of my men here, just in case. â€œ
At that, the soldiers came to attention and hid themselves in various places around the chamber. Soon, they heard the sounds of footsteps approaching.
â€œIt is I, Baron Tyragon Coldbane. Milady, am I not welcome?â€
He announced himself rather loudly. The captain shot him a hate-laden glance.
â€œSpeak only when the queen wishes you to, insolent dog.â€
The baron, whose face was normally pale, reddened like a ripened strawberry.
â€œHow dare you address me that way? I am a noble; you are nothing but a soldier. Army captains do not hold as much respect as nobles do!â€
â€œYes, but at least army captains are not blasphemous fools who live too richly and constantly hoard their wealth, much unwilling to part with the masses of gold they have accumulated. Why, the nobles combined hold twice as many riches as all of Mar Dunra put together,â€ the Captain retorted.
â€œAh, quite a profound view, captain.â€

Meanwhile, the sun was setting. The sunâ€™s last rays lingered upon the early twilight. The colors played upon the sky like a splash of watercolor.
â€œSunset, how beautiful it is. It has been too long since I could appreciate the simple joys of nature,â€ Telarion sighed.
â€œInteresting, is it not? The sun is setting, the sun leaving behind purple in a blaze of glory.â€
â€œWhy do you say that, Garion?â€ Telarion wanted to know.
â€œThere is bloodshed on the horizon, Telarion, I can feel it."

Seamus however, had no time to enjoy the sunset.
He was preparing for war. The Dwarves and Greybladeâ€™s now christened,
â€˜Shadow Allianceâ€™ had reached a parting of the ways; warfare was inevitable.
â€œThere is no solution other than conflict,â€ Seamus said philosophically to his Council of Advisors. He, as the Dwarf-Lord of Frosthorn Fortress, was to consult the Council in all matters, whether military or not.

â€œI have a question for you, Lord Seamus, why do you feel we must fight?â€ a council-dwarf piped up. His name was Thorron the Bold.
â€œMy fellow thanes, do you not see this? The laddie Greyblade intends to cause chaos. He wants war; then by bloody hell, weâ€™ll give it to him.â€

Greyblade too was preparing for the impending war. He sat closeted with his inner circle, the Black Council.
"My friends heed me when I say this. It is just about time we fight the dwarves. It has gone too long without saying that that are the most inhospitable hosts to walk this earth.By the dark gods, I will crush them. My Shadow Alliance is ready. You stand before me now, my commanders in the field of battle. You have long not tasted blood. I will return that taste to your mouths, so long as you lust for it. Obey me, and you will be well rewarded.â€ He glared around the counsel as if to say â€œFail me and you will be punished horriblyâ€ He nodded to his second-in-command, a sinister female assassin by the name of Aryia Darkclaw.
â€œWe must assault the forges, and put a stop to their production. We must attack them from all sides. Psychologically, we will sport with them. In battle, we will destroy them. But be warned, small in stature they may be, but do not underestimate them. Dwarves are some of the fiercest fighters in the world.â€
â€œYes, they are master craftsmen. If we can break their will, then we will win easily. It will be like a twig struggling to hold back an avalanche. Our forces will be an unstoppable onslaught. Blood for victory! Death for glory! No defeat! No surrender!â€ he ended this with a resounding roar.
He muttered to Aryia: â€œMake certain our troops are well equipped.â€
â€œYes, master, I will.â€
â€œGood, because if we lose this war, then none of your fancy assassin tricks will stop my wrath fom befalling you.â€

In the forest, the birds had suddenly taken flight, frightened by some as-yet-unknown presence.
â€œThis is most curiousâ€¦Why would the birds simply flee from their nests?â€
â€œI do not know, but it is best if we prepare for any unwelcome visitors.â€
With that, Telarion drew his wickedly-sharp long sword. Garion set a shaft to his formidable yew bow.
"Huh, I never noticed you carried a yew bow. I do as well. We must trade our methods of preparing arrows and such,â€ Telarion whispered.
â€œYes, well, let us leave it until after the battle is won.â€ His companion replied. Quite suddenly, a rider came charging at them. The two friends could not recognize this potential enemy, as it was swathed in a swirling brown cloak.
Garion fired his shaft. It hissed forward like a snake and slammed into the riderâ€™s shoulder. It cried out in pain.
That does not seem to be a human cry of painâ€¦â€ Telarion observed.
â€œEven so, it is an enemy.â€ Garion replied, fitting another arrow to his bow.
At the sound of more hooves thundering towards them, the two dispersed into the trees. Both were wearing dark brown cloaks that blended perfectly into the surrounding environment. From the trees, they watched.
â€œWhat the hell happened?â€ one rider asked.
â€œI donâ€™t know, I stopped here and an arrow hit me in the shoulder.â€
â€œLet us continue on, we must rech the palace before dawn.â€

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